


Baby Steps

by Left_Handed_Darkness



Series: The Unhallowed [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Black & white thinking, Cult Survivor, False Memories, Gen, Introspection, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Recovery, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 15:19:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18096899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Left_Handed_Darkness/pseuds/Left_Handed_Darkness
Summary: A young priestess afflicted by Light-given visions of a world that never was struggles to regain control of her life - and her mind.





	Baby Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to The Unhallowed - an RP community I run on the EU roleplaying realms. I never expected them to get attached to a character who was meant to be an antagonist during a murder mystery/counterespionage campaign. Emara was a young woman who was manipulated into joining an extremist cult. Ultimately, the players saw her to be a victim more than a perpetrator, and decided to get her help.

Baby steps.

Take one at a time, one after the other. Go slow, and you’ll make it, even when you stumble.

That was how progress was made, Emara reminded herself. Yet as she stared into the mirror, she felt herself slipping again.

It hadn’t been long since she’d been taken into the Spire’s care, not long since those virtuous pries-

No.

They weren’t priests. Clear your mind, remember? Take a breath, count to ten,  _ remember _ that the visions lie, and that you’re more than them.

They weren’t priests. One was a pal- a Blood Knight, and the others were… well. Part of her twinged at the truth, the solid  _ reality _ beneath all the lies and the light. Two shadowcasters, two fel-tainted Blood Mages, and-and…

A necromancer.

She clutched the sides of the simple washbasin until her knuckles went white, bulging yellow eyes wide with barely-restrained indignation. It passed over her in waves, a silent screeching that thiswasnotwhatshouldbe and thatiswrongwrongSINFUL. He could have been **_PURE_ ** .

Deep breaths. Count to ten. Count back again. Focus on the cold porcelain beneath your fingers, the marble under your feet, and the slow shift of air in and out of your lungs. Focus on the now, on the  _ real _ .

He’d seemed so nice, they all did. She held onto that, clinging to those caring voices and the faces they were attached to, her mind’s eye closed shut against the blinding light that threatened to drown it all out.

Narindiel. Anierous. Dareina. Gogrash. Myra. Saviéran. Kind people,  _ good _ people. And Arennis, her new tutor; black hair pleated neatly, with go- _ green _ eyes that had a look of both cunning and curiosity to them.

Splashing water on her face and drying it with a towel, she picked up her quill and flipped through the neatly organised pages of her diary until she found the latest entry. Emara ruled off beneath the last entry, before jotting down the date and approximate time.

_ Month 3, Day 13. Late morning. _

_ I had another attack. It was hard, but I managed to hold on. It’s like walking after waking up from a deep sleep; feverish, stumbling, and I can feel my mind skipping and slipping and tumbling down the same old paths again. But there’s a lifeline too - the faces of people I care about. I think about them more and more, burning them into my mind as a sigil against the visions. _

_ It’s still upsetting - I want to scream and shout until the world changes - but it’s getting easier now. I’m using Magistrix Arennis’s techniques and they’re helping me find my feet when the ground feels about to fly away from them. _

_ That probably doesn’t make sense. A lot of it probably doesn’t make sense. But I’ve got hope that one day it will. _

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wanted to do with Emara and the Sacred Murders arc is ask two questions; firstly, if Thalassian elves can now have light-touched eyes regardless of affiliation, then wouldn't that leave Quel'thalas open to Alliance infiltrators who could now show their faces in Silvermoon without being singled out? And secondly - especially given that the Naaru have now been confirmed to have few qualms about sending mortals visions and altering mortal bodies to fit their designs - what might the long term effects of exposure to a transformed Sunwell be? Is it really salvation and purity, or is it simply a fishing hook in the same way that Sargeras's "gifts" to the Highborn were? Particularly when those yellow eyes manifest due to extreme devotion...
> 
> What is the price of redemption, and is it truly what it seems?


End file.
